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Monday, September 22, 2008

Sunday was a beautiful, perfect-weather kinda day in Oakland. And there is no better way to spend a sunny afternoon, the last day of Summer, than . . . . working. Sadly, Job # 3 demanded serious attention Sunday and so I did the next best thing to sunning myself lazily at the Lake ~ I took my laptop and paperwork to the nearby teashop, L'Amyx on Lakeshore Avenue. Oh yes, it was just like enjoying the Lake.

But all was fine with the world because I love L'Amyx and I had a favorite book to re-read, especially all the pages I marked as my favorites (nerd alert) . . . yes, I was still procrastinating, up to the last possible second, from the document review. But I was enjoying the tarragon chicken-salad sandwich on toasted Milton's bread(!), my favorite. Um, I did not want to spill crumbs all over my laptop, OK? And besides, my book has wonderful sections such as this one:

Mr. J. P. Hamilton, confronted on his doorstep by three dark-skinned children clutching a myriad of projectiles, was duly surprised. As old as they had imagined, but far taller and cleaner, he opened the door only slightly, keeping his hand, with its mountain range of blue veins, upon the knob, while his head curled around the frame. To Irie he was reminiscent of some genteel elderly eagle: tufts of featherlike hair protruded from ears, shirt cuffs, and neck, with one white spray falling over his forehead, his fingers lay in a permanent tight spasm like talons, and he was well-dressed, as one might expect of an elderly English bird in Wonderland -- a suede waistcoat and a tweed jacket, and a watch on a gold chain.

And twinkling like a magpie, from the blue scattering in his eyes undimmed by the white and red surround, to the gleam of a signet ring, four argent medals perched just above his heart, and the silver rim of a Senior Service cigarette package peeping over the breast pocket.

"Please," came the voice from the bird-man, a voice that even the children sensed was from a different class, a different era. "I must ask that you remove yourselves from my doorstep. I have no money whatsoever; so be your intention robbing or selling I'm afraid you will be disappointed."

Can't you just see it all? And hear it? I drank in the words like I did my tea ~ slowly, sipping, savoring. And, I flashed a self-satisfied Cheshire grin at that Oxford comma.

Finally, when I was done with my first course, it was time for dessert: a gigantic slice of chocolate cake (with vanilla cream cheese frosting!) and glass of whole milk. It was time to start working and face the music, which, given how long this was going to take, sounded like 'O, Fortuna' from Carmina Buranain my head [yes, it really was the first thing that popped into my wee brain1]:

So, it was time to move from the counter, to a table ~ to spread out the laptop, the paperwork, and, most importantly, my cake and milk. I moved the cake and milk to the table first; there was a woman sitting at the next table, with a date, and when I walked back to the counter, I looked over to see her eyeing my cake with ardent desire. She hates me; I know it. I slinked back to my seat, and the couple was practically sitting in my lap ~ it was that crowded (but still so quiet and calm).

Since I was practically a part of their conversation, I did not eavesdrop so much as let their words wander over to my ears. It was immediately clear that they had met on-line, and this was their first meeting. Of course. Who would really go on a first date at 4 pm on a Sunday, if not two people who need a quick exit strategy . . . just in case; but if they liked each other, they had all day to spend together.

Oh, these poor, poor victims of the cold, cruel delusions floating around in cyber-space. The cute girl had themost nervous giggle, and she had her hands on the table, constantly fiddling with them. So-So boy must have had nervous-leg syndrome, because his left leg was bouncing so hard I thought it would catapult him through the window. This is how parts of their conversation stumbled along:

Cute Girl: [Something about Palin] ~ I mean, I don't think my mother could be Vice President....[something else about Palin].

CG: Oh, well, yesterday I worked a booth at a wine festival. But they stopped serving at 6 pm; and the festival wasn't supposed to be over until 7 pm! Why would they stop serving at 6? I had plans to get drunk! [pause...pause...] What else do you have planned today?

SS Boy: Laundry.

I started texting friends, describing the scene to them, and exclaiming that I would either kill them, or kill myself ~ to save us all from this torture. It lasted another 20 excruciating minutes or so, and they finally got up to leave. That is when I noticed the pièce de résistance . . . well, let me preface this by saying that Cute Girl was, in fact, pretty. I think she was quite pretty, in fact. Not as in, "Well, she has a pretty face." I really thought she looked nice. Now, let me point out, she was on, shall we say, the voluptuous side.

OK. We have established I am not a terrible, bitchy person, right? Right? OK. So, when she stood up and turned around, her backside facing me, bless her heart, I realized she was wearing a white dress with huge, black horizontal stripes.(!) Oh, the Humanity. The disservice, the travesty, the crime, committed by those unforgiving stripes. [I will admit to you that I made this observation as I sat there in my green Oakland t-shirt, which now sports bleach spots, a faded denim skirt, a tangle of unwashed curls piled on my head, and my blue eyeglasses. So what do I know, right?]

They finally walked out, thank you Baby Jesus, and almost immediately went to opposite directions as they exited the door. Then, as an afterthought, they remembered, "Oh right ~ the goodbye hug!" So, they turned around and hugged . . . and she gave him the pat-pat on the back(!) The type of quick hug that says, "Well, we're never gonna get that hour of our lives back." Oh that poor man. She did not give him the squeeze ~ that hug that lasts a few seconds too long, that says, "This Booty will, in fact, call you."

Somehow, though, I do think they sort of made plans to see each other again. Unless they were both lying.

And THAT, was my Sunday afternoon. ~ :) ~ Then I was up until 2 am, finishing that document review. :(

1. 'O Fortuna' will forever live in the "creeped-out/scared" part of my brain because I saw it performed years ago in San Francisco. Michael Tilson Thomas conducted the San Francisco Symphony (which was amazing) but the lyrics were sung by the Boys and Girls Chorus. After a while, it creeped me out that hundreds of kids were singing that tune, given that The Omen featured that evil little boy. The set-up was the same as that in the YouTube video ~ chorus in the back, up high, behind the symphony. At first it was powerful and intriguing, but after a while I kinda freaked out(!)

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Thank you to the very cool OaklandGoods for showing me the way to the wonderful online Oakland Collection at the Oakland Museum of California's website. The Oakland collection includes over 7,000 objects, from as large as a fire engine to as small as a stone marble, and some amazingphotographs of Oakland’s past, some dating back
to the 19th century. I love vintage photographs and I lost myself for over an hour learning more about Oakland's colorful history through sepia photographs, blue-tinted portraits, and cloudy black-and-white images. The website also gave me a brief account of the birth of Oakland and my little neighborhood (aka No Sleep Til Brooklyn):

Oakland, as a city,
was founded 150 years ago, in 1852. Initially it was a small village
along what is now Broadway. In the following decades, the village
grew to become a commercial center, especially after it became the
western terminus of the first transcontinental railroad (1869). It
grew still larger by annexation of Brooklyn (1872), Vernon Heights
(1891), the area north to Berkeley (1897), and the area south to San
Leandro (1909). In 1910, the visionary Mayor Mott founded the city’s
first municipal museum, the Oakland Public Museum. As a cutting edge
museum in 1910, it began to acquire the California Collections, which now, over 90 years later, number more than
one million objects.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

There’s more to wealth than just money. Social capital is as real as financial capital, and sometimes more valuable. ~ j.d. roth

Getting To Know My Money

Over the past few years I've learned the hard way about the need to bank my bliss ~ my attempts at sustaining a safe reserve in my emotional savings and loan association. Unfortunately, deposits into my financial institutions have not been nearly as strong. So, in recent months, for many reasons (not the least of which was Tax Day), I have been trying to master my money issues. Let me tell you, with personal finances, ignorance is not bliss ~ and it's uncomfortable admitting it to anyone, anywhere ~ much less here.

The mountain of information was staggering and intimidating. I had no idea where to begin (savings? stocks? mutual funds? IRA? what's the difference?). Embarrassed by my financial illiteracy, and by the dismal return on my one request for help, I reached out to the anonymous, non-judgmental hero of information we all rely on ~ Google. Thankfully, beyond all of the staid advice in the popular financial-self-help books, I found several very helpful, down-to-earth financial blogs, many of which serve as quasi-aggregators of the practical advice buried in the (expensive) get-rich books. ~ Thank you blogosphere!

I quickly became addicted to the Get Rich Slowly blog, although my goal is simply to pay down debt ~ no delusions of any sort of financial wealth. I've taken the first few baby steps encouraged by the GRS blog; and I finally looked into the retirement fund that three+ years of government work has afforded me. I was pleasantly surprised, relieved really, to discover how much of a nest egg I had built up without even trying (not from a high salary but from healthy contributions). It's not a huge amount, but it's a safe start and much more than I would have ever saved had I tried on my own. I've taken other steps, too; but I won't bore you with the details here ~ suffice to say it involves several side-jobs and eBay. ;-)

All of this tortured explanation is to say that I have spent a lot of time recently (although late in life) learning the value of economic/financial capital. Most of this anguished self-education has taken place alone ~ late at night, in libraries, or in my favorite tea houses. Fortunately, Serendipity (in the form of a myriad of hyperlinks through a maze of money-management tips) led me to a December 2007 GRS article about the value of social capital. To illustrate the concept of social capital, the article refers to one of my favorite movies of all-time, the very wonderful It's A Wonderful Life, and explains:

You generate social capital when you help your neighbor repair a fence, or have your Sunday School class over for barbeque, or join a bowling league. Any time you participate in the community, you are generating social capital, both for yourself, and for the other people involved. Individuals (and communities) with high levels of social capital are able to find help when they need it; those with low social capital can spend a lot of time frustrated and alone.

Getting To Know My Neighbors

Coming face to face with the cold, grim stare of my finances, however, nudged me quietly into the warm embrace of my social capital ~ that richness that revolves all around me in the many pockets of Oakland that claim me as an Oaklander.

Saturday afternoon, after running a few too many errands on an empty stomach, I wanted to try out the super-cute new cafe (and their Blue Bottle Coffee!) at the bottom of my hill ~ Cafe 504. I wasn't sure if they would be open, but when I drove up, there was a cute couple sitting outside in the sun, sipping coffee, smiling, chatting ~ so I walked in. The owner told me, though, that they had just closed ... because a water pipe under the street had burst and their kitchen was flooding. Just then, "Chico," a sweet neighbor (and, apparently already a regular at the cafe) explained that two other businesses on that street were flooding, and that the pipe had burst several times over the years. I told them I had the number to the Public Works Agency programmed in my cell phone...and added that I worked for the City so they wouldn't think I was a freak. I called the PWA Call Center, but they were closed. Luckily, I had the cell phone number to a Councilmember from another district, and she explained I should call the OPD non-emergency dispatch, who would transfer me to the Fire Department(!) But when I finally reached the OFD, they explained that a fresh water pipe is controlled by EBMUD! As I dialed yet another number, Chico said there was no way they would have known how to navigate through the morass of agencies to call. In the midst of all this, the ladies from the old-school no-name hair salon next door and the laundromat on the corner wandered out onto the sidewalk and talked to Chico about the flooding. Fortunately, EBMUD answered right away and the service vehicle was dispatched immediately ~ and Chico ran up to his house to get pictures of the other times the pipe had burst, to show the EBMUD tech.

The point is, it took the teamwork of about six people to fix something in the neighborhood ~ and all the while that couple at the table outside quietly continued their caffeinated conversation. Despite the mayhem and flooding, I felt an amazing sense of community ~ it was quite a memorable way to meet the owner, Jaime, and other neighbors; not to mention an elaborate way for the cafe to put together its 'emergency contact list'.

I went inside to say goodbye to Jaime, since EBMUD was on its way. Just then, Jaime's beautiful three little daughters came flying into the cafe, followed by their father. It was so fun to see the whole family breathing life into the beautiful little oasis they had brought to our little street. Then, for no reason at all, one of Jaime's daughters quietly walked over to me, and hugged me. She only came up to my waist, so she wrapped her arms around my legs and pressed her head to my waist ~ I was overwhelmed. She looked up at me with a smile. Her blond hair literally glowed from the sunbeams streaming in through the windows, and the indigo color of her blouse was as profound as the deep blue oceans in her eyes ~ this little girl's smile felt like the sun washing over your face and the breeze cooling your toes as you lay in the grass. Overwhelming. She silently hugged me again, and then ran off with her sisters.

The owner and the Barista thanked me, and insisted I take a cup of coffee to go ~ I told them I wanted to come back as soon as they were open again (because that coffee was delicious!). It's nice to know that I have a cafe only a block away, where everyone will know my name ~ I look forward to making Cafe 504 my own Oakland version of Cheers.

Walking The Walk

The coffee/flooding incident made me late for my 2 pm appointment ~ I had volunteered to meet at my boss's campaign office to campaign for her re-election, at local businesses up and down 20 blocks of Telegraph Avenue. I still hadn't eaten anything all day, so I wasn't really looking forward to a two-mile city walk to discuss politics with people.

My partner, Reza, and I set out from the Plaza to the first business at 17th and Telegraph Avenue: Wigs by Tiffany. The store was amazing! It was huge, and mannequin heads with wigs of all shapes, sizes, and colors were displayed on shelves reaching up to the ceiling; there were hundreds of white foam heads with mysterious eyes and pouty lips, neatly lined up like floating soldierettes, staring at us as we wandered into the store. We stumbled through our campaign pitch to Tiffany herself and, thankfully, she took a sign to put in her window.

Having quickly found success, Reza and I confidently set out on our journey ~ a mile up Telegraph to 34th Street and then back down the other side of Telegraph. We had the most amazing three hours, finding little gems (even the ones that are rough around the edges) all along Telegraph Avenue. I discovered that McB's Shoes at 17th Street really has a large selection of nice dress shoes, kickin' boots, and hip handbags. Because their windows are partially tinted, it seems it would be hard for the store to get noticed by drivers zipping through the intersection; but the store was very busy when we walked in. Within minutes I was really glad I was out walking in a tiny portion of our District, actually meeting the business owners I usually assist by telephone (my Boss and another staff member are usually the ones who meet constituents in person). In fact, when I introduced myself to some of the merchants, they recognized my name or said they had spoken to me by phone ~ and then the conversation would lengthen, deepen, to specific concerns of each business. At the end of the day, I had a long list of issues to research for several of the merchants ~ but I also had a wealth of unique information about each business.

At Lam-Toro, the wonderful West African restaurant near 25th, Mamadou asked us how he could get information about business micro-loans. At the Rock Paper Scissors Art Collective, they accepted our sign but explained the Collective would have to vote on Monday to decide whether they can place it in the window. At Mama Buzz Cafe, the hipsterette behind the counter with the buzzed haircut said yes to the sign and then ignored us as I held the chair on which Reza balanced precariously while he tried to tack the sign into the wall.

When we walked into Bibliomania, at 18th Street, we were greeted by the comforting, dusty 'used bookstore smell'. I love the smell of used bookstores ~ not only of the story itself, but the history of the book...where its been, whose read it, whose loved it, how many places its been through. I sometimes buy used books which have been highlighted or otherwise marked up ~ personal notes in the margin, underlining in sections the past reader found important ~ and I love that about used books ~ the tiny glimpse I get into the thoughts of the person who read the book before me. All of those thoughts whirled around me as we stepped inside and the gray-haired husband-wife owners greeted us.

Reza and I took turns making the pitch, and we received more Yeses than Noes. As we walked along we also got to know each other. Reza told me he was born in Canada, then moved to the States, then spent a year in Iran, and back to the States again. When I asked him how his parents ended up in Albany, Ca, he explained: "My dad lived in the States, then he went to Iran to get a wife, and came back." I laughed and said he made it sound so simple. We both talked about speaking Farsi and Spanish at home, about our families, and a little politics.

When we reached the Marwa Halal Market at 30th Street, on 'Oakland's Butcher Block', Reza made the pitch completely in Farsi to the Afghan owner. The owner didn't know very much about my Boss, so we showed him a picture. A woman who was at the counter said, "Oh I know her. She helped me with my literacy tutoring, at Second Start." And that's how we turned the discussion to my boss's commitment to literacy ~ we couldn't have asked for a better real-life example.

I began to notice that at nearly every business we went into, friends and neighbors were gathered around, talking and spending time together. The exchange of social capital was taking place at least as much as, or in some cases, more than, the exchange of financial capital.

At the River Nile Market, next to Halal Meat and Produce, the beautiful young man behind the counter sat and talked with two of his friends ~ and let us place a campaign sign in his window. He asked me, genuinely concerned but in a hip/tough kind of way:"Is it true Oakland is going to turn into the next Emeryville?" At Prime Communications, the small wireless store next to Marwa Halal, three older African-American men sat in folding chairs and exchanged stories. At the Korean beauty store near 27th Street, three older women sat around a tiny table having tea over animated discussion. At nearly every one of the dozen or so nail shops we entered, families gathered around, waiting for the one getting her nails done. The chatter mixed with the chemical fumes was dizzying.

On Telegraph Avenue, Ethiopian spices are being sold next door to Afghan breads next door to kosher meat and seafood next door to nag champa and shea butter next door to Cajun seafood (where super burritos also happen to be offered). Sprinkled along the Avenue are also the cd's, videos, and body oils sold at House of Soul; the wildly busy market at Koreana Plaza; African art, clothing, and jewelery at Sami African Imports ~ all tucked in between the empty retail spaces we still need desperately to fill.

The day was topped off by a leisurely, amazing meal at Lam-Toro and two glasses of their delicious Bissap ~ where family members of the owner or employees gathered in the corner lounge by the window, and we all laughed as their toddler ran around, stumbling and giggling. All of this was the Oakland I adore ~ I felt like my entire day was a huge investment in my portfolio of social capital ~ I hope you'll invest, too. ~ :)

Monday, January 28, 2008

When you reach this part of a telephone conversation with a "concerned constituent" (CC) you know it can only go downhill from here:

CC: Well, I drove my friends over to another part of your district to look at houses and there was one place, it looked liked a house, with a big sign that said "100 Black Men".ME: OK. (Long pause.) Oh, did that raise concerns for you?CC: Well, I don't know what that organization is. I called directory assistance and they didn't have a listing for them. ME: Well, was there any criminal activity taking place in front of the house with the sign on it?CC: No.ME: Was it abandoned - is it a blighted property?CC: No.ME: Ok. Well, did you look them up on the Internet -- did you Google them, to see if they have a website, to learn more about them?
CC: Oh, I don't have a computer - I don't even own a television.
ME: Ok. So what raised your concern is that the sign says "100 Black Men"?CC: Well, who are these people? I seem to remember the name; I think Quackenbush was fired a few years ago for giving money to Black organizations.ME: (Unbelievably long, disgusted, silence.) ~ Would the sign have raised concerns for you if it had said, "100 White Men"?CC: (Silence. And then...) Well, do they help white people?

Friday, January 25, 2008

Last July, the Oakland City Council adopted the ordinance I co-wrote to ban plastic bags in Oakland. [I also wrote a one-page FAQ about the ordinance.] In August, the plastic bag industry sued the City on the grounds that we did not consider the potential environmental impacts of banning plastic bags(!). The Ordinance was to go into effect on January 18, 2008, but the City agreed to delay enforcement pending resolution of the case on the merits in the trial court ~~ oral argument is scheduled for Tuesday, January 29, 2008.

To bring attention to the bullying litigation tactics of the plastic bag industry in killing sound environmental policy as it chokes marine life, Councilmembers Nancy Nadel and Jean Quan will hold a Press Conference on the front steps of Oakland City Hall on Monday, January 28, 2008, at 10 am. If you're around, please come out to the Press Conference and show your support ~ we will be distributing free Oakland canvas bags (like the one in the photo). If you have a poster showing your support or bring your own canvas bags to hold up, we'll probably have you stand behind the speakers, on camera! [Before I attack the plastic bag industry, I do want to point out that one lone 'bag monster' does have its own blog ~ a clever, funny, and very informative site!]

Almost 10% of the oil consumed in the United – approximately 2 million barrels of oil per day – is used to make plastic, including single-use plastic bags.

Petroleum-based plastic bags do not biodegrade, but instead persist in the environment for hundreds or thousands of years, slowly breaking down through abrasion, tearing, and photo-degradation into tiny toxic plastic bits that enter the food chain when animals mistake those materials for food.

Beyond the economic costs, plastic bags are also a blight to our parks, neighborhoods, creeks, lakes, and the Bay.

Not only do plastic bags get caught in trees, telephone poles, storm drains, and waterways, but approximately 100,000 marine mammals and turtles die each year from ingesting, or getting tangled in, plastic marine debris.

At Committee in June and at Council in July, we had scores of supporters come out and speak in favor of the ordinance. The compelling data convinced the City Council to do the right thing and adopt the ordinance. We made it through the first hurdle. But now we're spending taxpayer dollars fighting this lawsuit and cities across the country are watching ~ policy aides from Hawaii to Texas to Florida have called me to discuss the importance of this legislation and the devastating effect this lawsuit will have on environmental legislation if the plastic bag industry wins. Several other municipalities are so intimidated by the mere threat of a lawsuit, and the cost of potential litigation, that they are holding their legislation until they see how Oakland survives this lawsuit.

I should note here that the plastic bag industry did not sue San Francisco ~ it sued Oakland, even though our ordinance was modeled on (but not identical to) San Francisco's legislation. We are clearly seen as the smaller, more vulnerable municipality, with scarcer resources to fight this litigation. That alone, that tactic, is infuriating. I should also note that no grocery store owners spoke out against the San Francisco or Oakland ordinances ~ the California Grocer's Association and the plastic bag industry are the opponents. In fact, some smaller grocers have stated that when the big chains comply with the plastic bag ban, it will drive up demand for alternative bags and drive down the cost of compliance, making it even easier for them to comply (many of whom are eager to do so ~ after all, local shop owners know that Bay Area shoppers are environmentally conscious). This is a case of David versus Goliath ~ the single stone needed to stop this particularly nefarious Goliath is this lawsuit against Oakland ~ we just have to win; the fate of local environmental legislation across the country depends on it.

There are so many frustrating elements of this plastic bag ban issue and the reasoning of the plastic bag industry in their lawsuit. For one, they are corrupting the good intentions of the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA) by claiming that our proposed ordinance constitutes a "project" under CEQA, thereby triggering environmental review. Generally, actual construction or traffic projects, or physical changes to actual land parcels, are "projects" which require an Environmental Impact Report (EIR) under CEQA. However, even if our proposed ordinance were considered a "project" under CEQA, an EIR would be wholly speculative because they are asking us to essentially predict consumer behavior. In other words, the plastic bag industry is claiming that if we ban plastic bags, then consumers will use paper bags or compostable plastic bags instead, and that will have an adverse environmental impact. But, says who? Who says that's what consumers will do?

First, as we explain in the June 26, 2007 Staff Report we presented to Committee, our ordinance doesn't promote the use of paper or compostable bags but rather encourages retailers to provide incentives for shoppers to use canvas bags. Indeed, it's an ideal marketing and branding opportunity ~ even Safeway and Long's now sell reusable bags with their logos on them. Second, you can't assume (especially in the Bay Area) that shoppers will simply choose paper or compostable bags rather than bring their own canvas bags - the plastic bag industry does not present any evidence to support that claim. An EIR would cost Oakland taxpayers over $100,000, and we would have no more information than we do now. The plastic bag industry knows this ~ if they win, and if we have to conduct an EIR, not only is the implementation of our ordinance delayed, but countless other cities will be intimidated into not adopting plastic bag bans. That has already happened in Fairfax, CA, where the Town Council repealed the plastic bag ban it unanimously approved last July, because it was bullied into doing so under threat of a lawsuit by the plastic bag industry.

What is even more appalling is the fact that the plastic bag industry is bullying its way into dictating environmental policy. About three years ago, San Francisco officials began developing legislation to reduce the blight and pollution caused by single-use plastic bags (in San Francisco alone, 50 million to 150 million bags are distributed each year!), by imposing a tax on petroleum-based plastic bags. The intent, of course, was to encourage shoppers to simply bring in their own bags ~ much like most Trader Joes and Whole Foods customers already do. The supermarket chains asked San Francisco officials to instead give them one year to investigate the issue ~ they promised to keep track of how many bags their stores distributed and they promised to work with San Francisco to reduce the use of plastic bags by 10 million. However, when the year passed, and San Francisco officials asked for the data, the supermarket chains refused to reveal the numbers, saying it was trade secret information. Even worse, instead of working on the actual problem during that year, the California Grocers Association and the plastic bag industry actually lobbied the California legislature to pass AB 2449 ~ an insidious bill which explicitly forbids cities from charging fees for plastic bags!

As I explain in the Supplemental Staff Report I co-wrote for the City Council on July 3, 2007, all AB 2449 really did was to implement a pilot program, in effect from July 1, 2007 until January 1, 2013, requiring large supermarkets in California to offer in-store recycling of plastic grocery bags in exchange for the pre-emption of local ordinances mandating a bag tax or other recycling efforts. The plastic bag industry and the grocers association sponsored AB2449, so the bill was by no means built on a foundation of altruism or actual environmental concerns, but rather on protecting their bottom-line: profits. So, the bill is woefully inadequate in several key areas:

There is no requirement in AB 2449 for plastic bags to be made out of recycled content;

There is no requirement in AB 2449 for an affected store to reduce their plastic bag usage;

There is no requirement in AB 2449 to provide incentives for shoppers who use reusable bags or any requirement that consumers use reusable bags, although the bill does require stores to make reusable bags available to customers which may be purchased and used in lieu of paper or plastic carryout bags;

There is no direct appropriation for enforcement or education contained in AB 2449. However, the measure does stipulate that any civil penalties collected pursuant to the bill may be used for enforcement of this bill.

As much as I wanted to tear apart AB 2449 in that Staff Report, I had to be diplomatic and write:

The proposed [Oakland] plastic bag ban is a parallel, complementary approach to AB 2449. This state law requires grocery stores to provide recycling bins for the collection of plastic bags – after the fact, after the plastic bag has already been manufactured and discarded. The intent of AB 2449 is to keep bags out of landfills. AB 2449 is therefore a downstream approach that addresses end-of-life of a product once it has been produced. The plastic bag ban Ordinance addresses the much more highly leveraged upstream arena of generation and consumption – and seeks to stop plastic bags from being manufactured in the first place.

All California cities should pass Resolutions asking the State Legislature to repeal AB 2449. And just this past Tuesday, January 22, 2008, the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors did just that ~ the Board passed a Motion (which was introduced in December) to instruct the Chief Executive Officer to include in the 2007-2008 State Legislative Agenda the sponsoring or pursuit of legislation to repeal AB 2449.

The fact that there is only one U.S. city (San Francisco) with a plastic bag ban, while the rest of us are literally held hostage by the plastic bag industry is shameful. A growing list of countries and foreign cities from Australia to Zanzibar have already banned plastic bags, including China, Denmark, Ireland, South Africa, Taiwan, Singapore, Melbourne, and a number of East African countries. The U.S. should now join the one-quarter of the world's population that has banned this toxic pollutant.

Maybe we can do that soon, with the support and smart business sense of national chains that promote progressive environmental policy: Just last week, Whole Foods, Inc., announced that it is phasing out the use of plastic bags in all of its stores nationwide by Earth Day, April 22, 2008. Locally, City Car Share, which helps reduce air pollution and gasoline consumption by reducing the number of cars on the road through car sharing in Oakland, Berkeley, San Francisco, now provides reusable bags for grocery shopping in all of its cars.

Oakland is fighting a big fight on behalf of a lot of other wealthier cities ~ if you can, come out and show your support.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Over the past few years I've slowly discovered the quiet, calming delight of tea over coffee. I still need my morning Americano to jump-start the day, but a few times per day and often at night, I also need to slow down and enjoy a moment of quiet, best done with a cup of tea ~ Jasmine tea is my favorite, but this has made me reconsider ~ ;-).

Last year for Christmas, I received a beautiful green tea pot and tiny tea cups as a gift ~ there's nothing sweeter than sipping tea and nibbling ginger snaps late on a cool Oakland night. I'm lucky enough to live in the Bay Area where tea and the culture of tea have seeped into a part of the daily ritual for many people ~ along the way I have found myself finding contentment musing over a pot of tea at various tea shops.

When I lived in San Francisco, I spent many rainy days studying for the LSAT at Samovar Tea Lounge in the Castro; in law school I spent countless study hours with Jee and Quyen at Téance in Albany (sadly, now closed) and at L'Aymx Tea Bar (the original location on Piedmont Avenue, and now the new location close to home, on Lakeshore Avenue) in Oakland. ~ The few times I am able to get out of the Bay Area, I like to find the local tea shop and sit a while ~ in Chicago, it was the lovely Tianguis, run by the very lovely Irasema ~ even Fresno (Teazer World Tea Market) and Houston (Té House of Tea in the Montrose) have charming tea lounges ~ and you can't drive through Encinitas without stopping at Pannikin Coffee & Tea. More recently, I am a big supporter of the new Numi Tea Garden in Oakland and the very cute Julie's Coffee & Tea Garden in Alameda.

When I think of the different tea shops I've been to, I don't just remember the tea and the atmosphere and the service ~ but I remember who I was with, what we talked about, how I felt about them and the tea and the day.

So, as my taste for different tea leaves has grown, it didn't really occur to me that the easy availability and (semi-) reasonable prices meant that the ancient craft of farming tea has been taken over by mass production, even in China. This is the focus of the film All in this Tea, by Less Blank and David Lee Hoffman. Apparently, the film goes beyond the beauty of the art of tea to show why the craft should be honored and preserved, and to discuss quality over quantity, fair trade and organics, and sustainable development. SFGate gave the film a great review (which doesn't mean anything but I like that the little man is out of his chair).

The film will be screened this Wednesday night, January 9, 2008, at Numi Tea Garden in Oakland (2230 Livingston Street). A $5-$10 donation will be requested. Go if you can! ~ Either way, please leave a comment telling me about your favorite local tea shop ~ if I can, I'd love to check it out!

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Sometimes when you least expect, in fact even when you actively fight against it, a tiny lesson with a huge impact sneaks inside you ~ past your defense mechanisms, through your tough facade ~ and wraps itself around your weakened spirit. And when this lesson is something you already knew, it's that much more, well, enlightening ~

Tonight after work, when everyone else seemed to be running around getting ready for some huge storm that is heading our way, I went to the downtown Oakland YMCA, which you know is one of my favorite places. Someone recommended I try the Feldenkrais class, to help regain strength in my back. I wandered into the exercise studio and had second thoughts when I saw it was a dark room, two students (including me), and the instructor. Before I could sneak out, though, the class started ~ and I lay there in the dark, wondering how in the world I would get through an hour of the instructor softly asking us to "imagine the connection your ankle is making with the floor," and so on.

So, for the first 10 minutes or so, I begrudgingly went along with her instructions ~ then a few more students walked in, and the instructor turned on a couple of large heaters. The thing is ~ the thing is ~ it all started making sense, feeling right. The heaters hummed and cast a huge orange glow, waxing and waning, bright then dim as their huge round faces smiled first to the left then glided quietly to the right, casting a long thin shadow on the ceiling. I lay there, the shadows looking down at me, gliding across the ceiling with an "I told you so" smirk.

The instructor explained how Feldenkrais requires only tiny movements ~ nothing vigorous. ~ When all you know is that anything good takes hard work, requires breaking a sweat, well, laying there quietly in the dark felt ridiculous. We lay on our backs and crossed our legs and leaned them to the right ~ tiny movements, but it was hard on my back. Then we uncrossed our legs and pointed our arms up towards the ceiling, as if clapping ~ and shifted to the right then to the left. We went through a series of small, ordered movements. She told us how the movements were not random but ordered lessons, laying out a story. She explained that the order in which we did the movements encouraged a softening of the chest, a readjustment of habitual patterns, a gentle shakeup of how we organize our bodies in certain movements ~ a chance to do things a little differently for a lot of difference.

If you know me, if you really know me, you know that I'm about to say: There's a metaphor in there somewhere.

And there really was ~ we went back to the first round of movements and I laughed out loud when my body went farther than it had before, when it felt freer and better and lighter. She told me that you don't have to push far to make big changes ~

I sprinted out of the room, smiling as warmly and widely as the huge beaming heaters, and I bumped into Brooke, who teaches the deliciously agonizing Step class. So, I joined Brooke's class and at the 30-minute mark, someone panted and reminded us that the class is now 45 minutes long. We turned up the music, shouted a lot, and shimmied through the cool-down. Then I slipped my headphones on for a run on the treadmill and a spin on the machines for another hour plus ~ listening to Ira Glass. I'd write about the 'Home Alone' episode I heard, but someone else wrote a much better post about that.

Monday, December 31, 2007

As we enter yet another year of this country spendingbillions trillions of dollars and massive human capital attempting to 'establish democracy' in other countries, and another year of continued progress by dedicated, amazing individuals and groups developing innovative programs for civic participation in other countries, I am reminded of how much I wish we could focus some/more of that money, that energy, that knowledge, those resources here at 'home' in our local communities. I wholly support the humanitarian and civil aid the federal government and generous individuals send abroad ~ often, though, I am frustrated that we export so much of our talent and resources, and I am saddened with what is left over here in the U.S., here in Oakland ~ namely, not much.

I just returned to my office, after three business days away, to a mailbox overflowing with complaints and general nay-saying on the local message boards and email lists. Generally, the input we receive from many Oaklanders, particularly on the email lists, is negative ~ I have yet to receive an email free from insults or denigrating tone describing an innovative way to address whatever problem the resident feels should be addressed. Even worse, when we offer information on how the person can actually get involved, say through a community group or Commission or Task Force, the caller almost always says something to the effect of, "Oh, well, I don't have time for that!" or even worse, "What?! You want us, the taxpayers, to do your job?!" It's generally downhill in the conversation from there.

Today's round of derogatory emails was instigated by residents reacting to the news that "California Senate President Pro Tem Don Perata escaped uninjured Saturday from a gun-wielding man who robbed him of his sporty state-leased car at a red light in North Oakland." The usual naysayers (the same people who complain on the email lists for every other topic) are using this incident as the opportunity to tell us, yet again, how incompetent we are, how wasteful we are, and how hopeless we all are here in Oakland.

I'd like to use the incident as the opportunity to challenge, I mean, invite Oaklanders to actually participate in their government ~ to actually apply to a Board or Commission or to join their local Neighborhood Crime Prevention Council and dedicate 2008 to actually doing something locally instead of simply complaining and blaming, something other than simply showing up at the City Council meetings every other week to complain at Open Forum. Oh yes people, I ask you to actually be a part of the solution, not just the problem. I want to put a big ole sign above City Hall that says, "This is not a Complaint Zone ~ it's a Solution Zone, an Innovation Zone."

After I read all of my email, I went through my Agenda Packet for next week, including the 'Boards and Commissions Annual Notice of Anticipated Vacancies for 2008'. I want to ask every Oaklander to read through the Notice, pick your passion, and apply it. There are nearly 30 Boards and Commissions in Oakland ~ from the Commission on Aging (six vacancies) to the Youth Advisory Commission (19 seats will open up in 2008), and everything in between. Many, many residents complain about the City's budget ~ well, there are 11 vacancies on the Budget Advisory Committee. Everyone complains about the lack of services and opportunities for children in Oakland ~ we don't control the School Board or the schools here in Oakland, but we can work together to develop innovative youth programs through the Children's Fund Planning and Oversight Committee. Our Libraries are also in desperate need of resources and creative energy ~ there are nine vacancies on the Library Advisory Commission. Overall, we need innovative entrepreneurship and excitement in bringing jobs to Oakland and connecting Oaklanders to those jobs ~ well, there are 15 vacancies on the Workforce Investment Board. And there is so much more ~ so much to do, so many opportunities to focus local talent and resources right here in Oakland. We especially need local bloggers to get appointed to these Commissions, so they can not only participate but also engage others in local governance!

For me, though, this is my final year with the City of Oakland. My boss just announced her campaign for re-election and I will work with her to make 2008 a creative and productive year, and to try and engage as many residents as I can in consistent, positive civic participation. But the tone of politics in Oakland has gotten to me ~ maybe I just needed more people to say 'Thank You," or fewer people to constantly verbally attack us, who knows. But I see the policy-making and ground-level opportunities in other parts of the country and the world, and the genuine excitement and positive participation of their citizens ~ and I feel I need to be in that type of environment ~ one where my work would be appreciated, challenged in a positive way, and nurtured. So, if you know of any openings, let me know! ~

Saturday, November 03, 2007

We are excited to announce that we have started the process of overhauling the City's web site: www.oaklandnet.com. Our goal is to launch the best municipal web site in the country!

To that end, this month the City Administrator's Office and the Department of Information Technology are hosting four community meetings to gather input from the public about how to improve the current web site. Topics will include: accessing key information and documents, making on-line payments, adding new features, and more. Meeting participants and survey respondents will be entered in a drawing for a free iPod nano.

At first I thought, well, it doesn't have to be the best in the country ~ just make it so constituents can pay parking tickets on-line, and apply for permits, and even figure out when large development projects have been submitted for review ~ simple things like that. As it is now, even I, a City employee, can't find information buried in the Planning & Zoning section, and I am embarrassed by how primitive our page is for the Oil Independent Oakland (OIO) By 2020 Task Force, compared to Portland's flashy site (and by flashy, I mean they include "fancy" stuff like images and pull-down menus). All I do is submit the content for the OIO page; we have no tech support to make it more user-friendly or interactive, or even, say, well, pretty.

So I searched around on the inkernet, looking at other City web-sites, wondering what makes for a good municipal website -- and does "good" always mean useful? I mean, there are a lot of very tech-savvy people here in Oakland and I'm sure some of them/us, would love to see the City incorporate the latest web tools, such as podcasts, blogs, interactive maps, and whatever else all those fancy gadgets can do. Do our residents want that, though? Shouldn't we first make simple things available, such as paying parking tickets on-line, or even implementing a community-service program to pay off parking fines? I hope residents attend the Community Meetings and really tell us what they want.......

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Tonight, the Public Safety Committee of the Oakland City Council voted YES, to adopt an Ordinance to ensure safe and unimpeded access to reproductive health care facilities, in response to over 10 years of complaints that anti-choice demonstrators intimidate and harass women trying to enter abortion clinics in Oakland. Two of the clinics are in our Council District. The Ordinance is called a Bubble Ordinance because it creates a safety zone, a "bubble" of safety, around an individual accessing the clinics. The Ordinance will protect clinic patients and family members, volunteer escorts, doctors, and clinic staff.

I helped write the Ordinance, and I wrote the Staff Report, which I presented to the Committee tonight. I'd forgotten how unbearably hot it is under those lights, speaking into the camera, as your colleagues sit behind you watching, as your Boss sits next to you expecting your expert knowledge to freely flow into the microphone, as the affected groups sit in the audience relying on you to advocate on their behalf and secure the votes, and as your friends and family watch at home. It took me over six months to prepare for the five minutes I had at the podium. Some of the clinic staff members had been waiting for this moment for 10 years. I thought I had thought of everything ~ framing the issue so that it's about public safety, not exclusively about Choice, to avoid that heated debate and focus instead on the fact that if you are a women trying to enter a clinic and a protester is close enough to you that you have to bump into them to get through, THEN THEY ARE TOO CLOSE. Simple. Facts.

Our supporters were eloquent, articulate, factual, and calm. A few anti-choice/pro-life advocates spoke, and turned the tables on "Choice," explaining that if they are prevented from "counseling" women on the sidewalk, as they try to enter the clinic, then we are actually depriving those women of Choice and informed consent. That was expected ~ I saw that one coming. The Councilmembers did not take the bait. Another anti-choice/pro-life advocate said that if we passed this Ordinance, we would "make abortion completely accessible." Yes. Thank you. That is the point.

What was interesting was the woman who said she is a 4th-generation San Franciscan, and explained that in 1903 her great-grandmother found herself in a crisis pregnancy. She decided to have the baby, who became this woman's grandmother. The speaker pointed out she would not be there tonight if her great-grandmother had not been so courageous as to have a child out of wedlock in 1903.

Factually, she is correct. But I don't agree that the facts give this woman any right to tell any other woman what to do with her body, nor even to try to preach her story to any woman she does not know on the sidewalk in front of an abortion clinic. There are different kinds of courage. You don't get to define someone else's courage for them.

What resonated with me is how similar her story is to mine, my family's story.....In 1947, my grandmother worked as a cotton picker in the Valley in Texas. She had been born in Mexico and probably still lived in Matamoros, walking across the border every day, commuting to the fields where she picked cotton. She was in a relationship, although she was not married. My grandmother got pregnant ~ and the man left. Some things never change. My grandmother kept the baby ~ probably it was the only choice she had, considering the alternative of a "back-alley" abortion out in the fields. She continued the back-breaking work of picking cotton, even while pregnant. She had the baby ~ my mom. She went back to work, picking cotton. And raised my mom, alone, for two years. She was a kick-ass, independent, fearless, strong woman. Some things never change.

Later, when my mom was two, my grandmother met Samuel (abuelito) and they married and moved to Mexico, where they had 4 more kids. As adults, my mom would help bring her entire family to Texas, with her citizenship. When my mom and dad married, they worked as strawberry pickers in Bakersfield. When she got pregnant with me, my mom continued picking strawberries, back-breaking work, stooped over her growing belly all day, until she was seven months pregnant. Like mother, like daughter ~ my mom is also a strong, kick-ass woman, even in the times I thought she was the weakest person I know.

As that woman in the Committee meeting told her story, I wondered, just for a second, if my grandmother had even considered an abortion; did the idea even occur to her? I wouldn't be here today if she had. More likely, I think she didn't think there was anything to do but have the baby, and keep working. That's what you did back then ~ and still do in many places, even in Oakland. So, was having my mom really her choice, if she didn't have any other option? I wouldn't be here if my grandmother hadn't had my mom. But then, I wouldn't be here if my mom had never met my father, or not married him, or gotten pregnant in some other month, depending on how all the DNA came together. The fact that I am here is sheer luck ~ not entirely the result of something my grandmother chose, or stumbled into, doing in 1947. So, the fact that any of us lives and breathes through sheer luck or circumstance or chance or choice doesn't give us permission to dictate anyone else's reality.

Oh but they tried. Twenty-One Speakers. Two minutes each. The Committee meeting dragged on ~ but the Councilmembers did not take the bait on religion, or free speech, or even Choice. Each Councilmember also spoke eloquently (which doesn't always happen!), contradicting the claims of the anti-choice/pro-life advocates. Yes, this is about Choice...but you do not get to define Choice. Do you?

I'm going home now ~ tonight, 8:30 pm is considered early for a Committee day. I'll watch the 11 o'clock news on Univisión, to see if they air what I said on-camera. And I'll spend a few more weeks preparing for the next presentation, to the full City Council. That woman's comments don't change my views on Choice, and they won't change my presentation ~ it only served to remind me how amazing my grandmother and mother are, and how I hope to be as strong as them someday, and how I hope I make them proud ~ someday.